Lorelei was down two hundred. Franklin was down fifty. Two actresses from a wildly popular sitcom were down seventy-five and three hundred, respectively. Wendy wished Sarah were there. Her parents were bridge players, and she cleaned up at poker. When she played, she tried her best to give Wendy advice and drag Wendy along after her. Wendy’s phone rang, giving her an excuse to back away from the sad table. She saw it was Daniel calling, and her heart did a dance to the jaunty rhythm of the slot machines nearby. She took a moment to close her eyes and take a calming breath through her nose so she wouldn’t answer the phone in the tone of an eighth grader with a crush. Then, afraid she’d waited too long and Daniel would hang up and she’d miss him completely tonight, she hurriedly answered. “What’s up, lovah?” “Hello, Wendy,” he said. “I need your help.” “This should be good.” “I’m at the Horny Gentleman.” “The strip club? Or is this a personal problem?”
